


The Stuff Legends Are Made Of

by JackiLeigh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 15:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14595891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackiLeigh/pseuds/JackiLeigh
Summary: This story is inspired by an episode of White Collar where Neal Caffrey, conman extraordinaire, is a topic in a criminology class at a local university.  What if Sam and Dean were afforded the same privilege?





	The Stuff Legends Are Made Of

The Stuff Legends Are Made Of 

 

Chapter 1: The Study of Winchester

“Really?” Dean asked, standing beside his seated brother so that he could get a look at the computer screen.

Sam nodded his head. “At NYU…the class is called American Folklore and Legends.”

“Which are we?” Dean interrupted.

“Which are we…what?” Sam asked, confused.

“Are we Folklore or are we Legends?” Dean replied. “I’d rather be a legend…sounds awesomely cool.” He grinned.

Sam shook his head. He looked back at the screen. “You can decide for yourself.” Sam then read the description of their section loud. “During this week we will study the lives and the motivations of, Sam and Dean Winchester, two brothers who hunt creatures of all shapes, sizes, and descriptions, reviving the notion that things DO go bump in the night.”

“What? This…professor is making all those things sound made up.” Dean said, angry at the description. “’Things that go bump in the night’…what douche bag wrote that?” He was disgusted, pacing their motel room.

“Not all those things exist, Dean...” Sam replied. “…the things of childhood nightmares.”

“True.” Dean admitted. “But a lot of them do.”

“Okay,” Sam challenged Dean. “…remember when you used to tell me I had to go to bed early or….”

Dean went over to his bed and picked up the remote lying on the comforter. He turned on the TV.

“Dean.” Sam said, as his brother said down on the bed and turned his attention to the TV.

“Dean!” Sam got up and went over to where Dean was. “When I was 8 years old you told me….”

Dean looked at Sam. “Okay, okay, you got on my nerves. I told you the boogeyman would get you if you weren’t in bed by 8 p.m. so that I could watch the TV shows I wanted to.”

Sam didn’t say anything, but moments later a pillow flew across the room, smacking Dean in the back of the head.

“Hey!” Dean turned, glaring at his brother. His expression changed to a grin seconds later. He picked up Sam’s pillow and tossed it back on his bed. “I was a kid, Sam. We both…I believed in all that stuff when I was your age. But Dad said the boogeyman didn’t exist. He was sure of it. So I knew it would be okay if I scared you with that one. It couldn’t come after us in real life. Plus, I didn’t have a big brother to tell me …things. I used to wish, sometimes, that Dad would have held back until I got older.”

Sam and Dean were both silent for a moment.

“So, why do we keep doing it?” Sam asked.

Dean looked at his brother for just a second. “We’re hunters. We’re supposed to.”

Sam started to open his mouth.

Dean shook his head, stopping him. “It’s what we’re supposed to do.” He sighed. “Our lives…our motivations, that’s what the syllabus said? We go after these…things. We get attacked, punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown up against walls, shot at. What do we get in return?” He paused, but he was not really waiting for Sam to answer. “…ungratefulness and a one-way ticket out of town. Our lives suck.”

“There is required reading/reference materials…” Sam replied, drawing his brother back in. “…The Encyclopedia of All Things Supernatural.”

“…anything else?” Dean asked, again reading over his brother’s shoulder.

“The Monster Hunter's Handbook, by …I can’t even pronounce this guy’s name.” Sam replied, reading from the screen.

“What does this guy know?” Dean said, sarcastically.

Sam just looked at Dean.

“What? We’ve been doing this for years. And this guy has ALL the answers and writes a book! What the hell?” Dean ranted.

“We need to go buy that book.” Sam said, matter-of-factly.

Dean just stares at him for a second. “Well, I guess you want to go and take the class too.”

“Maybe we’d learn something.”

“We got Daddy’s journal.” Dean said, looking at Sam. “Some Dead Poet’s Society wannabe ain’t gonna teach me jack!”

Sam grinned.

“What?”

“It’s not all bad.” Sam replied. “…the travel.”

“The girls.”

“…meeting new people.” Sam continued.

“The pretty girls.”

“Helping them solve their problems.”

“The pretty drunk girls.” Dean said, staring off into space.

“You are unbelievable.” Sam replied.

“What?” Dean asked. “There are certain…perks to the job. Like you said…we travel. We meet…interesting people. That red-head in Philly, Mallory, I think was her name. She was….”

“…interesting?” Sam offered as he started to pack.

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah…all kinds of interesting.” He realized Sam was packing. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to college.” Sam said, heading out the door.

 

(TBC—Per Request)

 

 

Chapter 2—Sam and Dean 101

AN: Thanks for your reviews and your requests to continue this story. I am more than happy to comply. I hope you like what I came up with. Enjoy!

 

“Seriously?” Dean said as he threw his bag into the trunk and closed the lid. He got in beside Sam.

Sam nodded as Dean started the car and headed out on the road.

“Isn’t there like an admission procedure and all that stuff…applications, fees, more applications, more fees, tuition?” Dean replied. “That stuff takes months.”

“True.” Sam agreed. “But NYU is huge, large classes…some a couple hundred students.”

“…couple…hundred…?” Dean asked, unbelieving.

Sam nodded again.

“So what, we’re gonna steal education?” Dean asked. “Dude!”

“We’ve stolen just about everything else, or, at least, have been accused of it, why not?”

“You do have a point.” Dean said.

“We won’t be there long, our section only lasts a week.” Sam said. “And there’ll be so many students…the instructor won’t even notice a few extras.

Sam and Dean arrived at campus a few hours later.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam replied as they got out of the car. “The class starts at 11 a.m. It’s 9:30 a.m. We’ve got to go buy textbooks and then get to class.”

“Buy textbooks? I ain’t buying no freakin’ textbooks!” Dean said.

“We’re on a college campus, pretending to be college students.” Sam said, trying not to draw attention to himself or Dean while trying to get his point across. “And college students, even fake ones, need textbooks.”

Dean started to walk away. “Then we’ll steal those too.”

“Unless you’re planning on mugging a student, that won’t be possible.” Sam replied.

Dean thought for just a second. “Okay, where is the bookstore?”

Sam had brought up an online campus map on his phone, so they were able to find the building quickly. The place was huge and Dean just took a minute to stare. 

“How do you find anything in here?” Dean asked looking at shelf after shelf of books.

Sam smiled. “It’s pretty easy, actually. They are alphabetized by classes in departments.” Sam when to a shelf and pointed out the letter-number combo tag at the bottom on the shelf, under a stack of books. “The letters are an abbreviation for the class or the department the class belongs to. The number is the actual class number we’re looking for. And if there are more letters or numbers after that, that is a book a specific instructor requested for his class.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, so what are we looking for?”

Sam had memorized the course number. “F-L-I-T 255. We need to be in the English/literature department.”

“Flit 255…what the hell?” Dean asked.

Sam chuckled. “It probably stands for Fantasy Literature, something that would be along the lines of Greek Mythology.”

Dean nodded. They found the books quickly and Dean opened the hunter’s book and started to read.

“Dude!” Dean said after reading a moment or two. “This tells you how to use imaginary weapons to kill imaginary monsters. What the…?”

“Dean!” Sam hissed, letting Dean know his raised voice was drawing attention.

Dean continued to rant, thought it was a bit lower in volume. “Why would I need to know which imaginary weapon I needed to kick some imaginary creature’s imaginary ass?”

“Dean!” Sam said as the level started to rise again.

“Seriously!”

“Dean!”

“Freakin’ Douche bag!”

Sam hurried his brother along grabbing pens, notebooks and a couple copies of each book, plus he threw in a couple book bags.

“What’s all that crap for?” Dean asked when he finally realized what is brother was doing.

“Remember college…the pretending to be students thing?” 

“We’re here for…maybe a week, not a whole semester.” Dean replied.

Sam quickly paid for the items. He put his things into his backpack and handed Dean his bag and his books as they headed out the door. Their class was located in a small lecture hall in the building next to the bookstore. It only held about 100 students. There were a few students already in the lecture hall. 

Dean quickly found a way to occupy his time. He flirted with a few of the coeds as they walked by. A couple even turned around and winked at him.

“You’re old enough to be their weird, creepy uncle.” Sam stated.

Dean looked at Sam and scowled. “Dude, you really know how to spoil a guy’s fun.” He whispered to Sam.

“I am trying not to have us kicked off the campus of a school we are not even going to.” Sam explained.

“My flirting is going to do that?” Dean asked.

“…ten-year age difference, Dean.” Sam pointed out. “I don’t want to be the guy walking around with the creepy old dude on campus.

Dean thought for a moment. He realized that his brother was right. He looked at Sam and pouted. “I am not old.”

Sam and Dean waited until a group of about 20 students walked in. They then separated from the group and took seats in the back of the hall. Sam took his books out of his backpack and laid them on his desk. He opened his notebook to take notes. Dean took out the book he had been reading in the bookstore, stashed his backpack on the floor. He put his feet up on the seat in front of him. 

“This should be interesting.” Dean said as a man who reminded him of Bobby, clean shaven and in a sweater and a jacket with elbow patches walked in and took his place behind the podium at the front of the classroom.

Sam looked up. “Wow, Bobby Singer meets college. You’re right, this should be very interesting.”

 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 3—The True Test

 

The instructor began the class by passing out an outline to the 75 or so students in the room. He began to speak as the outlines found their way around the hall, passed from student to student. Two copies finally reached Sam and Dean, all the way in the back of the room.

“This week we discuss the Winchesters, Sam and Dean. I found a strong sub-set a subculture almost who believe that these brothers are actually living people.”

Dean looked at Sam. “You look alive to me.”

“Right back at ya.” Sam replied.

The instructor continued. “This is based on the set of novels called Supernatural written by Carver Edlund. There is a widespread belief in the subculture Edlund is a pen name for Chuck Shurley a, supposed, prophet of God.

A chuckle erupted in the room.

“Probably the most screwed up prophet…ever.” Dean stated.

“He wasn’t so bad.” Sam said.

“Ole Chuck gets called, of God, and he answers it with a bottle of Jack?” Dean looked at his brother.

“Okay, you got me.”

The students listened, intently as the instructor spun his tale. “Shurley’s main purpose was to be a scribe. But unlike most scribes he didn’t record history. He actually, supposedly, recorded the actions of the Winchesters before they happened. Hence the prophetic part of his title. The series tells about how the Sam and Dean Winchester got started as hunters. And the stories begin when Sam is but six months old. When his mother, Mary, was killed and Sam’s and Dean’s father, John, starts to hunt for demons.”

Another chuckle ripped through the hall.

“…any of them ever met one of those black-eyed bastards….” Dean started.

The instructor looked at his watch. “You are welcome to go and hunt down the series. But for time, cost, and availability reasons, it had a very limited publication; I will not require you to read the entire series. I will provide you with the sections I wish for you to read. I suggest you know those sections well. The test, which will be on Monday, will consist of 4 or 5 essay questions.

Dean looked at his brother. “No…absolutely not, I don’t do tests. And especially not essay tests.”

“We’re staying.” Sam said. “You’ll have the weekend to study.” He said sarcastically.

“Bitch!”

“Jerk!”

The instructor began to pack up. “Familiarize yourself with the information from the section I gave you. You only have to read and be responsible for the areas I have marked. And again, if you do come across this series of books in your travels, I suggest you get them and read them. They are immensely entertaining.

“Immensely entertaining?” Dean said as he stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I wonder how entertained he’ll be when I stick my foot….”

“Come on, Dean. Let’s go.” Sam said as he followed the other students out into the hall.

Sam started towards the car. Dean headed in the opposite direction.

“Come on, Sam.” Dean said as he started to move deeper into the campus.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, working quickly to pull up a map of the school on his phone.

“…cafeteria.... Cafeterias always have pie.” Dean explained.

Sam led the way, finding the cafeteria without too much trouble. He was hungry, too. Sam got a garden salad, a bottled water and a chicken salad sandwich. Dean got a slice of pecan pie, a slice of apple pie, and a slice of cherry pie.

Sam gave Dean a look when they sat down at the table. He shook his head. “You should weigh…like 300 pounds.”

“I’m eating fruit.” Dean said as he forked the first bite of pie into his mouth. “Besides, I have a very…labor-intensive occupation.” He told Sam, as if he didn’t know.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

“Dude, this is such a joke.” Dean said, lying on his bed in their hotel room and studying the outline. “This instructor Doctor Jeremy Keats doesn’t include anything about Mom’s death. Nothing about what happened in your nursery that night.”

“Maybe it’s a time limit thing. He’s only got a week, Dean. Maybe….” Sam replied. He sat down and looked at the syllabus.

“What?” Dean asked, noticing a change in Sam.

“I’m glad he’s not going over it, Dean. I’m really glad. I…maybe I don’t want to have to relive that again.” Sam shook his head. “Hearing him talk about it…like it…like it was nothing….”

“It changed our lives, forever.” Dean finished his thought. “Mom’s go to the mat for their children. It was not your fault. Besides…that demon bastard got what was coming to him, we made sure of that.” Dean paused. “And I will not have this chick-flick moment with you. I’m going to gas up the car. I found a diner not far from here. You coming or you want me to bring something back?”

“Bring something back.” Sam sighed as he entered the bathroom.

Dean stood in the doorway for just a moment. His heart went out to Sam. At least he did have a few memories of his own of their mother. All Sam had was what he and John had told him. Dean shook his head and then headed off to the gas station.

The second day of class was a little different than the first. The Dr. Keats had made up packets of information for the students. It contained everything the students were supposed to read. All their homework and even a couple of sample essay questions.

“This is a lot for just one week of class.” Dean said as he thumbed through the packet.

“We lead exciting lives.” Sam said as he took his seat in the back of the room and got ready for class. “Lots of stuff to know.”

Keats started his lecture. “I realize I am hitting you with a lot of information here. But the Winchesters had very interesting lives. Edlund seemed to capture the essence of the brother’s relationship; the brother’s deep love for one another, their selfless desire to save one another, each willing to die to save the other’s life. It’s really quite touching, and it’s illustrated over and over in Edlund’s writing. It wass their greatest strength and their greatest weakness, all at the same time.

Keats continued. “Sam and Dean were left alone a lot as children when their father, John, went on hunts. When they got to be teenagers Sam and Dean joined their father. He taught them how to fight, and how to shot a gun and how to use a knife, all practical skills for a hunter. Sam, though, had decided, early on, that the life of a hunter was not for him. He applied and got accepted to Stanford University. He was going to have a normal life. He decided. He and his girlfriend Jessica were got to get married, have kids and live, very comfortably on his lawyer’s salary. But then everything changed. Dean came back into Sam’s life after a few years of separation and then Jessica….”

A hand shot up and Keats acknowledged the student. “Why didn’t the demon who tried to kill Sam try to kill him again? And why wait all those years?” A cute petite sophomore with blonde hair in the 4th row asked.

“Excellent question, you’ve read the books, I see.…We don’t’ know that the demon didn’t try to kill Sam again. It very well could have. Edlund just didn’t write it as such.” The professor paused. “According to demon lore they go for your weak spots. For Mary Winchester it was her children, namely her 6-month-old son, Sam. For Sam, it was Jessica. Edlund portrayed the two as being very much in love.”

“…as I was saying… Jessica was killed and Sam was thrust into the ‘family business’ as Dean called it. Sam was angry, and he wanted revenge. But Dean was just happy to have his family together again.” The Dr. Keats said, continuing the narrative.

“…sounds a little selfish.” A kid in the 6th row stated.

Dean glared at the back of the guy’s head as Sam elbowed him in the side to keep him from saying anything.

“Dean had seen a lot of death in his young life. He never met his maternal grandparents. And John didn’t say a lot about his parents. Dean figured the two of them was the only family he had. You can’t really blame him for wanting to keep those people close. At any rate, Sam and Dean were soon hunting alongside their father. John still did a lot of hunting alone. On one of those trips John was gone longer than Dean thought he should have been. Dean hadn’t had any luck getting in touch with his dad. That was when Dean joined up with his brother. Dean just jumped in his car and headed for California. He took his brother by surprise, literally. He and Dean had a tussle in Sam’s dorm room when Dean jumped him as he walked in the door.”

“You got your ass kicked.” Sam replied.

“I took it easy on you.” Dean stated.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Sam replied.

Dean looked at Sam and grinned. “…whatever Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy!” Sam snapped.

 

TBC

 

END NOTES:  
A ‘bottle of Jack’ is a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey.

 

 

Chapter 4—Making The Grade

AN: Thanks to SkyHighFan who pointed out a couple of things to me. I had to take literary license to explain how people would know the last name as Winchester. Chuck never mentioned their last name in the novels, or at the convention. 

And, as always, thanks to you guys for your continued support.

 

Dr. Keats had barely gotten into the classroom before one of his students raised her hand. “This guy really thought…this Edlund really thought that these guys were for real, right? I mean, I was reading the part about the memoir and that’s what it said.”

“Chuck had memoirs?” Dean asked.

“Who knew?” Sam replied.

Keats nodded as he put his books and coat down. “He really did.” The instructor continued to unpack. “He withheld their last names for that reason. He thought people would think him crazy.”

“Didn’t Chuck/Edlund whoever like…just…disappear?” One of the guys in the class asked.

“Yes, it’s true. The police consider his case open and unsolved.” Keats replied.

Sam and Dean just looked at one another, neither had any idea Chuck was missing.

“We will get back to Edlund. We were just getting into the Winchester’s story. Dean grew up following in his dad’s footsteps, like an obedient son. He knew his dad’s motivation for hunting, and he following his father, willingly, into the life.” Keats paused. “Sam, on the other hand, was just a baby when his mother died. He didn’t feel the same. He still loved his mother, but he had no memories of her, of his own. He didn’t feel that loss as acutely as his father and his brother. Sam wanted to live his own life. And he was a smart guy. He excelled in school. He got good grades. He got accepted to Stanford University. It was only after Jessica was killed, in the same way as his mother, that he joined in the ‘family’ business.’”

“This guy thinks he’s the…authority on my family.” Dean said, angrily.

“He’s right, Dean.” Sam admitted.

“About what?” 

“I didn’t feel Mom’s loss the same way you too did. I didn’t know her, Dean.” Sam replied. He knew Dean was ready to say something, that he was angry. “I don’t have any memories of my own. I just…I have what you and Dad told me.”

“You thought we were lying?” Dean asked.

“No, I thought you wanted to give me some good memories.” Sam could feel Dean’s anger. “I love her. But….”

Dean was close to exploding, Sam knew. “But what? What the hell, Sam?!” Dean said, just a little too loud.

“Hey!” A girl sitting 3 rows in front of them turned around and said. “We’re in class. Do you mind?”

“She didn’t just tell me to shut up.” Dean replied.

Sam grinned. “I think she did.”

Dean held his tongue until the end of class, ashamed of being called out by a 20-something coed. They continued their conversation on the way to the cafeteria to get pie.

Sam started. “Jessica made it personal, Dean. I love Mom. I swear to you, I do. But I didn’t know her. I didn’t talk to her every day. I didn’t….” He shook his head, doubtful Dean could understand where he was coming from.

“I think I get it, Sam.” Dean replied. “But this was Mom…our mom.” He was asking for Sam’s understanding.

Sam and Dean were both silent as they went through the cafeteria line. Each absorbed in his own thoughts. Dean was the first to speak after they sat down. 

“I…I can’t understand what it was like for you to loose Jessica like that, Sam. It’s just not possible. She wasn’t my girlfriend. But I had hoped…me sharing my memories of Mom would….” Dean shook his head unable to put to words what he wanted to say.

“It does make me feel closer to her. It does. Without it there would be nothing. But not having my own memories makes me feel kind of…detached. I know that that sounds cold.” Sam stated. “I wasn’t as close to her as you were, Dean. And if that makes me a bad son, then I’m a bad son.”

Dean just looked at his brother. He finished his pie and then got up to leave. “Are we staying for the exam?”

Sam grinned. “You realize if you fail you have to hand in your knives, guns, and holy water and become the fry cook at a greasy burger joint.”

“If I get anything less than a B, I’ll do your laundry for a week.” Dean replied. He knew how much Sam hated to do laundry.

“And if I get anything less than a B, I’ll make your bed every morning.” Sam offered knowing what Dean would really want him to do, but offering that instead.

“No, Sammy, you know what I want.” 

“No!” Sam said.

Dean grinned.

“Forget it!”

Dean’s grin got broader. “I win; you clean out my baby’s backseat.”

The last time Sam found a green furry burrito, by sticking his hand in it.

“Let’s make it interesting.” Sam said. “Best overall score. You lose, you eat salads every meal, every day for a week…and no pie.”

Dean frowned and pouted for a moment. Then he nodded. An evil grin spread over Dean’s face. “I win, you have to wash my car…on campus…in front of a sorority house…wearing only your boxers.” He knew how modest his brother was.

Sam immediately blushed, just thinking about it. “You trying to get me arrested?”

Dean shrugged. “All you have to do is make the better score.”

Sam stuck out his hand and agreed, reluctantly. They shook.

TBC

 

 

Chapter 5—Graduate Material

 

Dean and Sam sat for a moment or two staring at the test for their section of the class. It had been an interesting look at their lives. Sam considered answering the questions the traditional way. Then he had an idea.

 

Professor Keats,

My name is Samuel “Sam” Winchester. I thought it interesting to have a class based upon my brother, Dean’s, and my life. And just so you know. Carver Edlund/Chuck Shurley’s novels are based 100% in reality. There are devils, demons, angels and awful things that go bump in the night. And it is true that we are not always successful in our endeavors. It’s true that we sometimes mess up, as the novels illustrate. But we try our best. And we keep the mission objective in sight, always. We help people who cannot help themselves. We save people. We hunt things. And we make no apologies.

This week has brought back a lot of memories for me. (I miss Stanford and that life so much, sometimes.) But it just goes to show, you don’t always choose your path, sometimes the path chooses you. And while, in many respects, this is not the most ideal life, there are parts of it I would not trade for anything. I have always looked up to Dean. And not just as a brother. He’s my surrogate father. He practically raised me. A pretty big load to put on a kid who was just 4 years my senior, but he did a great job. He’s a patient, understanding older brother. I couldn’t ask for more.

Chuck Shurley was a prophet of God. His purpose, in this life, was to chronicle our lives in great detail. The angels tell us those books will become known as the Gospel of Winchester. Hard to believe, I know. But when you’re told something by an angel, well…you kind of have to believe.

Chuck withheld our last name from the books because he was sure no one would believe that what he was writing was true. He wasn’t completely sure until we burst in one him one day while he was writing. We demanded to know who he was getting his information from. He had written a chapter or two ahead. We read it and, sure enough, it happened, just the way he had written it.

I do ask that the next time you teach our section, please devote more than a week to it. Our lives are much too involved, too complicated to fit into the span of a week. And have your students read the entire series, not just a few select excerpts. The holes you leave are big enough to get lost in.

Also, make sure Dean gets a higher score than I do. I kind of made a bet with him. It would give him a big ego boost if he won. And he needs that sometimes. So, if you hear anything about a guy on campus washing an Impala in his black boxer briefs…please don’t call the cops.

Thank you, In Advance,   
Sam Winchester

 

END NOTES: I love the mental picture I'm leaving with you guys with. (Sigh) Thanks for reading.


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